Parrot Prick
by Tupper
Summary: Ginny's horny semester grade stirs up trouble and now she's faced with fixing the disaster and warding off her parrot's advances. At the same time, Ron and Harry finally get Slytherin's new password...DG. Pre-OotP.


I think you'll like this—it's my personal goal to write totally original D/G work. The first part's mostly humor.

Enjoy.

_Parrot Prick_

Ginny looked down at her parrot in dismay. Sensing her blues, it cocked its head to one side and promptly insulted her.

"Awk, swish and prick, dumbass," it squawked at her.

"Swish and _flick_, prick," she hissed back at it. A Slytherin girl caught the last part and frowned at her. Ginny sweetly returned the sentiment, and the other girl scowled. Her own parrot was mute, waiting patiently for the girl to get on with his transfiguration.

Ginny stared morosely at the aptly named Prick, who opened his beak to add another scathing comment when she swatted it with her wand. Prick ruffled his feathers indignantly but wisely kept his beak closed.

The poor little Weasley leaned her chin on her hand. Of all the class parrots, she had been assigned the one that could _talk._ She was supposed to transfigure it into a barn owl, but the bird's peanut-gallery comments had disrupted her notoriously fragile concentration. Ginny glared at it; it turned its head and looked at her out of a glassy eye. "Dumb," it whispered.

"Ass." 

"That is _it!_" Ginny snapped, slapping her wand down the table with a loud crack. Everyone jumped. "I _will transfigure you right, if only to __shut you up!" She began to erratically wave her wand and cried, "__Terso Metamorphso!"_

A jet of light raced from the tip of her wand to the now-worried parrot. A blinding flash later, it stood on her desk…

Completely unchanged.

"Oh, screw you," Ginny muttered, and plopped back down in her seat.

"Screw me, screw me, awk!"

"Hey," nudged a Hufflepuff from her right, "that bird thinks you're hot."

Ginny sat down hard in a comfortable chair as near to the crackling fire in the common room as she could. "That bird will be the death of me."

Ron, Harry, and Hermione happened to very conveniently walk in right then. Ron grinned and went straight over to his sister. "I heard a parakeet hit on you today."

"Parrot."

"Same difference," Ron waved his hand dismissively. His face suddenly grew serious. "Look, if you want him taken care of, I know a few handy spells…"

"It's a bird, Ron. You're outclassed."

Harry sniggered, Ron scowled, and Hermione hid a smile and wandered off in search of her book. Harry and Ron plopped down in a chair next to Ginny's. Ginny turned her attention to her own book and slouched in her chair, holding the novel in front of her face. She read a couple paragraphs, sighed in frustration, and lowered the book to reveal Harry and Ron looking pointedly at her.

"What?" she asked.

The boys exchanged glances. "We need your help," Harry began.

"…"

"It's about a boy," Ron continued.

"…?"

"And—woah, stop looking at me like that. I'm not gay."

"…"

"That's better. Anyways, this guy has something Harry and I want." Ginny said nothing, but just drummed her fingers on the armrest, her face carefully expressionless. Ron looked increasingly nervous—and maybe a little guilty? "Um, Ginny," Harry started hesitantly.

"You see, he's got a password," said Ron.

"And we want it." Harry.

"A password to what?" A cautious Ginny.

"Ah—well, a sort of room…" Really guilty Ron.

"That we want to get into." Harry.

"And…well…"

"Are you going to tell me, or should I just say 'no' now?" Ginny said. She wanted to get back to her book.

Harry took a deep breath. "We _really_ want the password for the Slytherin common room. And we think _you can get it."_

"Oh, do you?"

"Yeah! You see, we've got a list here of Slytherins that should be in Hufflepuff. That means they're gullible. You've got a touch for dealing with buggers like them; you can get the password from one of these people!" Ron thrust the list at Ginny, who scanned it out of curiosity.

"Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Everyone knows they're dumber than a box of rocks."

"Blaise Zabini?"

"Offer her food."

"Pansy Parkinson?"

"Flatter her and she'll tell you anything you want."

Ginny looked up from the list, her face troubled. "You know that I like to get at the Slytherins just as much as you do, but…" She wavered off hesitantly. "I don't know, this just seems low—using someone to get something you want—"

"They're freaking Slytherins!" cried Ron. "They deserve whatever they get." Harry nodded whole-heartedly in agreement.

"Yeah—come on, Ginny!"

Ginny bit her lip. She still didn't like the idea, but…well, as testosterone-inflated as her brother and Harry were, she couldn't help admitting that they had a point—Slytherins were naturally nasty, and nobody liked them but themselves. 

"Still…" Ginny shrugged off the temptation. "I thought that doing a thing like this would be something _only_ Slytherins stoop so low to…"

Ron's eyes twinkled. "Blaise Zabini was spreading rumors about you. She thinks you're sweet on Draco Malfoy."

Ginny froze. "What?"

"Yeah—she said you were hanging all over him in a hallway."

"He ran into me!" Ginny said indignantly. "I didn't do anything."

"_We know that, Gin, but you know the Slytherins. They'll dig up dirt on any Gryffindor they can."_

Ginny slammed her book shut, startling several people in the room. "_That little—"_

"Watch your mouth, Gin."

Ginny looked up and had a more heated expression than Ron had expecting. He glanced over to Harry, who looked like he was seriously considering edging away. The youngest Weasley didn't get angry very often, but when she did…well, she was as bad as their mother. She looked murderous.

"So—will you do it?"

Ginny didn't even hesitate. "Tell me what to do."

The next day in Transfiguration, she could barely keep her mind on her task. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts for revenge that she didn't even notice the casual insults being flung at her by Prick.

"Awk! Dumbass. Awk!"

"Oh, shut it," said Ginny absently, and tapped him with her wand a little harder than necessary. "I'm not in the mood."

"Are you in the mood for looooove?"

"Parrots don't propose to bipeds."

"Awk, but this parrot has got. It. Going. On."

"Grow a couple of feet, lose the feather mullet, and I'll think about it."

"Awk! Prick is in the _zone_!"

"Having fun?" said a voice from behind her. Ginny winced before turning to face Professor McGonagall. The teacher wore a stern mask, but Ginny could see the barely concealed smile. She shook her head and turned morosely to her parrot.

"I can't concentrate, and Prick is being a prick."

"Well, give it a go." McGonagall folded her arms expectantly. Ginny looked at her uncertainly, unsure whether—for the general health of the class—she should refuse or not.

Seeing that the professor wasn't likely to change her mind very soon, Ginny took a deep breath and raised her wand, swishing and flicking perfectly.

_"Terso Metamorphso!"_

Again, a jet of light arced toward the dismissive parrot, which was scratching itself with a claw. A bright flash and a loud squawk later, the smoke quickly cleared to reveal Prick.

Only he wasn't Prick anymore.

Not exactly, anyway.

Ginny moaned and buried her face in her hands, while McGonagall was speechless, looking on with something akin to horror on her face. Ginny saw her grade being flushed down Moaning Myrtle's toilet.

Prick stood there in all his feathered, winged, _scaly_ glory. 

"Woah," whispered another girl in amazement. "It's half…gecko!"

"So, it's a geckot," said a boy. "Or possibly a pecko."

Ginny felt a wad of guilt wedge solidly into her throat as she stared at the…thing. "Sorry," she whispered. "But I think I'll be passing on that date."

"Awk, don't worry baby! Now there's more of me to enjoy!"

"Oh, Lord. It can still talk."

"Awk! Gotta go! Awwwwk!" With that, it took a totally unprecedented running start and launched off the table, wings flapping furiously to sustain the added weight of the new tail. It dangled limply as Prick flew from the room, and a bunch of girls giggled. McGonagall gave them severe looks, and they busied themselves with making sure their own projects didn't spout tails that looked like…never mind.

The professor turned back to Ginny, whose freckles stood out against her pale face. McGonagall, Ginny was shocked to see, was barely suppressing a giggle. Did she ever giggle? "I suggest that you go find him," McGonagall said smoothly, "before he finds his way into the kitchen."

Ginny's face was beet red as she all but sprinted from the room. As she passed, a Slytherin nudged her friend and whispered loudly, "Hey…the name Prick fits now."

Half an hour later, Ginny was out of breath and was no closer to finding Prick than she was to falling in love with Draco Malfoy. She stopped and rested her hands on her knees, breathing hard and cursing that bird under her breath.

"Lousy parakeet…" 

She looked up as she heard footsteps come around the corner, and saw Draco Malfoy staring down at her with a strange look. "What—" he started, then stopped. "No, I don't care." He started to walk away and turn another corner when a feathered bullet crashed into him. He cried out in surprise, and toppled backwards. 

Prick 'awk'ed happily at him. Draco just stared at it, pale eyes wide. Ginny wasted no time in snatching the parrot off Draco's chest and turning away.

"Pain in the butt," she muttered. "They just _had_ to give me a horny parrot."

"What _is_ that?" Draco gasped out behind her.

Ginny stopped and studied Prick carefully. "I'm told it's a pecko."

"What did it use to be?" asked Draco cautiously, getting up from the floor and brushing himself off.

"A parrot. I think."

"…right."

With that, Draco took one last look at the monstrosity and started to walk away. That was the exact moment that Ginny realized who she was talking to. "Hey—wait a minute!"

"What?"

"What has been with you lately?" Ginny said, firmly grasping onto Prick, who was trying to squirm out of her arms. "You haven't been yourself at all. You've been like this the entire year."

Draco raised an elegant eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"There—that!"

"…"

"That, just there. You were being halfway polite."

"My apologies."

"No, it hasn't been just there. It's been months and you've barely said a word to my brother or Harry. Used to be, that every day one or the other would be storming into our common room, ranting about something you've said. You've stopped, and now they're depressed because they've got nothing to complain about. What's going on?"

For a fleeting second, she could have sworn fear had flickered in Draco's eyes. But it was gone as soon as it had come. "There's nothing."

"Then prove it. Insult me."

Draco shrugged. "Fine. You're a dumbass. Parrots aren't supposed to sprout gecko tails."

Ginny considered. "That's okay…but you haven't said anything about my clothes, freckles, red hair…nothing…you'll have to do better, before I believe you."

The Slytherin suddenly got angry. "About what?" he snapped. "My personal business has nothing to do with you. I don't know why I'm even talking to you." He spun sharply on his heel and started to walk away again.

Ginny looked after him for a second, and then turned to go her own way. That didn't go over well with Prick, who wiggled in her arms. Ginny struggled to hang onto him, but he writhed free and took off down the opposite direction.

"Hey—get back here, Prick!"

Draco stopped and sighed. "What now?"

"Not you—not right now—watch out!"

Draco barely covered his head in time before the wad of feathers and scales hurtled over his head. "Hey—watch it!" he snapped, before Prick flew screeching down the hallway. He looked up to see Ginny with her face buried in her hands. 

"Crap," she said softly. She lifted her head up and blew out a sigh. "I'll find him later."

"You'd better, before he gets into the girls' bathrooms," Draco said doubtfully. "What with that tail…"

"_What with that tail! I don't get it! Why is everyone _pointing that out?_" _

Draco looked at her warily. "Er—nothing. Really. It's just, ah, weird."

"Right. Fine. I'm going to lunch."

She set off down the way Malfoy was walking, heading toward the Great Hall. Both walked in silence, several feet apart.

Draco left lunch early when he remembered that he had forgotten one of his books in his dormitory. He left, carefully peeling off Pansy's hand from his arm, and made his way to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. 

"Awk! Hey, Blondie!"

"Oh, Lord," Draco groaned, and turned to face Prick. "What?"

"Stay away from mah woman, awwwk! Dumbass!" Prick flapped his wings erratically and hopped up and down on the stone floor. Draco seriously considered stomping on it, but figured no, he'd let it torture Ginny for a little while longer. He was still a little peeved about her earlier remarks.

"_Cobbler," he said, and the wall split to let him through. Prick stared after him. _

_"Cobbler," he croaked softly. __"Cobbler."_

Ginny was busy studying in the common room that night. Her efforts to recapture the parrot had been in vain; no matter how hard she looked, it was no use. Hogwarts was gigantic, and a single bird could be lost for a hundred years before anyone ever found him. That wasn't too uncomforting. 

She groaned inwardly as Harry and Ron came over and sat down next to her again, one on either side. They looked around for a moment, and all three felt the disapproving shadow of Percy hanging on them.

"So—have you gotten anywhere yet?" asked Ron urgently. His face fell a bit when Ginny shook her head.

The youngest Weasley shrugged. "It's not that I haven't been trying," she said. "But Blaise Zabini recently started a diet, and Pansy Parkinson gets a little _too flattered when you compliment her."_

"How so?"

"Oh, she giggles, but frowns when you change the subject to something other than gossip or how pretty she is. Won't talk about anything else. Pig."

Harry thought for a moment. "Crabbe and Goyle?"

"I haven't gotten a chance. They've got a pretty serious detention sentence from McGonagall."

The boys hung their heads. "Well, that sucks," Ron muttered. "Anyone else?"

"Well, unless you think she can con Malfoy…" Harry trailed off hopefully. Ron's eyes darkened at the sound of the Slytherin's name. 

"I don't want her messing with him," he said darkly.

"I dunno—he's really mellow this year," Harry mused. "I mean, we could probably get more out of him now than we ever could before."

Ginny frowned. "Yeah—I've noticed that too. I even confronted him about it."

"What?" Ron said sharply.

"Prick mauled him over in the hallway. He wasn't really upset, didn't insult me. I asked him what was wrong."

"Did he say?"

Ginny shook her head. "No—but he almost looked scared."

"Well, when you're the son of a powerful Death Eater that's part of a conspiracy to take over the world, in a good position to be killed, and a general coward, sure, you'd be scared," Harry said waspishly.

"So," Ron said candidly, "are you sticking up for him or insulting him?"

"Neither."

"Touchy, touchy."

"Anyway—think it's a good idea? Ginny?" Both boys turned to look at Ginny, who felt even more reserved than before. 

"I don't know." She fingered her robe and didn't meet their eyes. "What are you planning to do with the password, anyway? Why do you have to sneak in?"

Ron and Harry looked at each other, neither one really wanting to come out and say it. Ginny slouched in her chair.

"Oh, come off it," she said irritably. "If you want me to do anything for you, you've got to tell me what I'm doing it for." She didn't really want to mention the fact that she wasn't ecstatic about the idea of conning Draco Malfoy. Just something…for some really weird reason, she felt it was like kicking a man when he was down. Malfoy seemed really in the pits lately—and she had no doubt that what Harry said had something to do with it—and she didn't want to make it worse. He hadn't done anything to her or her brothers all year, and although he had been a major prat the previous years, Harry and Ron had always managed to get back.

So they were even now, and Ginny didn't relish the thought of delivering the offensive first blow.

Ron interrupted her thoughts with an exasperated sigh. "Fine, we'll tell you. And when we pull it off, you'll get credit."

"Bully for me," Ginny said acidly. "Credit for what?"

Both Ron and Harry leaned forward excitedly, like little kids. Their faces were shining and their eyes bright. "Okay," Ron started. "We get the password. Then late at night, we sneak into the Slytherin's dormitories. And then we hex them!"

"I could have seen that coming a mile away."

"You've got to hear the rest though. Fred and George taught us a really great spell over the summer. They use it for their products, but they said we could do a little mischief—if we kept it top secret."

"And this spell is…?"

"The Custard Cream Spell! The one where they all turn into canaries! And we've tweaked it a bit so their feathers will last the entire day!" Ron was positively glowing now. "We'll rig it so that the spells come into effect just as they walk into breakfast! And when everyone's laughing, we'll give you some of the credit!"

Funny, how that wasn't very attractive to Ginny just then. "Look—I don't know about this. There are plenty of Slytherins that didn't ask for this. Sure, some of them are gits, but what about the first years? They don't hardly know you, how could they have offended you? They'd be living it down for the rest of their school days."

Harry and her brother looked a little uncomfortable then. They obviously hadn't considered that. "Plus, they're supposed to be the aggressors, the ones that strike first. We're supposed to be the better people, right?" She began to get annoyed. She shouldn't have to be telling them this. "I can't believe I even considered helping you."

Ron offered weakly, "Blaise Zabini said—"

"I don't _care_ what Blaise Zabini said. This is really going too far."

She couldn't help it; she was relishing preaching to them just now. They deserved some guilt.

"And for another matter—" Her sermon was interrupted when Prick flew into the room when some first-years opened the passage way. He shrieked a bit, startling the younger students and frightening a pair of first-year girls into hysterics, before he finally settled down on Ginny's knee.

"Awk, cobbler! Awk!"

"What?" Ginny asked in annoyance, but not before making sure that Prick's leg was securely tied to the armrest. A couple of younger-year girl recoiled in horror.

"The word for the pass! Awk! Plan a midnight rendezvous, baby? Aaaawk?"

"That does it," Ron snarled. "No scaly git's coming on to my sister." He snatched Ginny's Arithmancy book from the table and was about to heave it on Prick's head when Ginny caught his arm.

"That's my semester grade that's hitting on me. And that's my book about to hit the bird. Give it." She grabbed it before Ron could bring it smashing down. He and the bird had a short staring contest.

Prick ignored a sputtering Ron. "Awk, cobbler's the one to get it done, baby," the parrot drawled. "Draco baby likes cobbler, snakes like cobbler, awk!"

Harry froze. "What did he just say?"

Ron made a face. "That's he's going off on Malfoy next?"

"_No," Harry hissed. "'Draco likes cobbler, snakes like cobbler'…" He suddenly grinned. "Ginny, you're a genius! You used Prick to get the password!"_

Ginny choked. "I did what?"

"Pure brilliance!" Ron whispered. "A talking parrot…gecko…thing…who would've thought?"

"Ron, Harry—no. I didn't do that. Prick must have just…found out on accident…"

"Who cares?" Ron said excitedly. "It's your…grade! Your project! You'd still get tons of credit! And you," he said to Prick, who had magically become his new buddy, "will get a lot of crackers. Or…what do geckos eat?"

"Spiders! Awk!"

"Just crackers, then."

Harry clapped his hands together and rubbed them enthusiastically. "Great! We'll do this tomorrow night."

"Just wait a damn minute!" Ginny demanded angrily. "Haven't you heard anything I've said?"

"Oh, sure, Gin," Ron said absently, stroking Prick's head. "Great speech, lovely."

"Glad to see that your consciences don't hinder you," Ginny said acidly. She picked up her books, snatched Prick away from Ron, and marched up the stairs with her chin in the air—looking remarkably like an indignant Hermione. Ron turned to Harry as she stalked away.

"What d'you think crawled up her butt and died?"

All through the next morning, Ginny agonized over the chain of events that she had triggered. She hadn't said anything to anyone about it; after all, anyone not from Slytherin would just think that it was the greatest thing in the world, and anyone from Slytherin would just wave her off. If the password could only change by the time Harry and Ron pulled their prank that night…Ginny had her fingers crossed and her prayers up, but didn't think that was likely. Oh, no, because that would mean that something would have gone in Ginny's _favor, and not against her. And that just didn't happen._

She looked up from her lunch in the Great Hall and sneaked a glance over to the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was oddly detached from the rest of the student body, eating his lunch in a moody silence. Ginny felt the heavy weight of guilt hang even more over her shoulders, as she watched him sitting there, eating, not sneering or bothering anybody. Maybe he had grown up. Or maybe it really did have something to do with what Harry had said the previous day.

In any case, it didn't matter. He hadn't struck the causing blow, had done nothing to deserve this particular punishment. Ginny half thought that Harry and Ron were only doing this just to provoke him into his normal attitude, so they could all return to the familiar and comfortable routine of an endless circle of insults. That, and the fact that Harry and Ron were immature and petty.

Strange, that. As a younger student, she had adored Harry and admired Ron. But her small crush on Harry had ended after a few years, when she started to mature and he didn't. Oh, he always had that underlying sense of sense, a strong taste for justice, and a good-natured feeling, but his good logic often gave into schoolboy pranks. When he wasn't battling to save the world, he was almost disappointing. He was a good hero, but not…really good for more than a friend. He just wasn't _serious_ enough; didn't consider consequences to his actions.

Ginny had been reluctant to let go of her golden-boy image of him. Even now, she still hoped that he would grow up overnight, recognize her as being more than just a little sister, but she knew that wasn't going to happen. And she wasn't going to cry over it either. 

And now that she was no longer blind to his flaws, she began to see even more of them. She was furious at both his and Ron's obliviousness to the disaster that they were going to cause. They could only think about the grand joke. This wasn't just one person they were trying to humiliate, it was _two hundred. Most of which were kids they'd never even spoken to, kids that had never done anything to them._

Ginny munched sullenly on her sandwich, darting another look at Draco. She had to admit—he was definitely handsome, with long blonde hair and pale grey eyes. Definitely. Her hand flew to her cheeks. They were warm.

As if he knew she had been staring all along, Draco turned his eyes briefly to her. She was startled and almost looked away, but held his gaze. Draco's eyes were expressionless. Not quite indifferent, just without emotion. They looked tired.

Just then Ginny made up her mind.

Later that night, Ginny crept into the boy's dormitory. Her wand shone only the scantest of light for her to go by, and she walked carefully. She paused and focused her eyes in the dark. Spotting Harry's bed, she went over and started feeling around the floor surrounding it.

Her knee sharply hit something, and she barely bit back a yelp of pain. Neville Longbottom mumbled and shifted in his sleep, and Ginny froze. But Neville didn't wake up. Ginny looked down to see Harry's trunk. She quickly set down her wand and softly opened the trunk's lid. She dug through some of the contents—blushing when she brushed past a pair of boxers—until she finally came up with what she was looking for. 

The Invisibility Cloak rippled through her fingers.

She knew about it, of course. Six years at Hogwarts—how wouldn't she? Four years into school and she had already suspected her brother and Harry of owning one, but she found out conclusively by total accident when she had walked in on them throwing it off after a late-night run to the kitchens. They'd made her swear never to tell anyone, and she'd stayed true to her word.

But they'd never said that she couldn't use it.

It had only been implied.

Ginny soundlessly swept the cloak over her and shut Harry's trunk. She'd have it back before anyone noticed. She knew for a fact that Harry and Ron weren't planning to pull their prank until sometime around three o'clock. As a matter of fact, they were both snoring like babies.

Ginny tiptoed down to the common room in her slippers, thankful that they were the kind that were fuzzy all over and didn't have those nasty slip-protection things on the bottom. A swift glance at the clock told her that it was midnight. The Fat Lady was sound asleep when Ginny swung the portrait open, and continued her snores after Ginny closed it.

It was rather a long way to the Slytherin common room entrance. She had a good idea of where it was; Harry and Ron plotted constantly of how to get in, and she had overheard enough of their ideas to know.

It was nerve-wracking, though. The halls were eerily silent. She half-expected a monster to jump out at her from the shadows. Hogwarts, which seemed like such a cheery place during the day, belonged to the shadows at night. She shivered, but kept going.

It seemed like an hour later that she finally reached the entrance. It was a simple stone wall, but was marked by a single, distinguishing torch with a tiny snaked engraved on it.

_"Cobbler," Ginny whispered, and the stone parted for her._

The Slytherin common room, oddly enough, was exactly the way she thought it would be. It was dank and dreary. High-backed chairs surrounded a still-lit fireplace that added no warmth to the room. Ginny squinted up the two flights of stairs in the room, unsure of which lead to the boy's dormitories. Finally she just picked one and  headed up. She pushed the fourth-year door open and looked around by the dim light of her wand.

She had to stuff her fist in her mouth to stifle her laughter when she saw Pansy Parkinson with an acid green facial mask on and pink curlers in her thick hair. She looked even uglier than Prick.

_Wrong staircase, Ginny thought giddily to herself._

She went back and went to the other staircase, and entered the fourth-year dormitory. Thinking that it would be really disturbing if girls were in there, too, she looked around, stubbed her toe a couple of times, and finally found Draco Malfoy.

She was surprised to see that he wasn't asleep. His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, his arms behind his head. He looked old.

"Hey," Ginny whispered into his ear, and firmly clamped her hand over his mouth. "Shhh. Come with me."

Draco, for his part, started, but almost immediately recognized the voice. "Weasley?" he whispered in amazement.

"The girl one."

"No, really? What are you—" He was cut off as Ginny seized his wrist and hauled him out of the dormitory. Draco was a little surprised at her strength, but didn't resist as she led him down to the dormitory, out of the common room entrance and into an empty classroom. It seemed oddly  large, devoid of light and any furniture save for a desk in the middle of the room.

Ginny threw off the Cloak and folded it under her arms. Draco stared at it.

"Where did you get that?" he said suspiciously.

Ginny waved the question off. "That's not important."

"Why are you here? And more importantly—how the _crap_ did you get the password to our entrance."

Ginny smirked a little. Draco's heart beat a little faster. "You really should watch what you say around talking parrots."

Draco blanched. "He _snitched_?" he said in disbelief. Ginny giggled at the childish word. It made Draco sound more human. She looked at his eyes, and they were wide with an almost child-like air.

"Yes, he snitched. In front of my brother and Harry."

Draco's face darkened. "What are they planning to do?"

"In about—" Ginny checked her watch—"two and a half hours, they're going to come and hex the lot of you."

"How?"

"Canary spells. Does it really matter? A hex is a hex. I'm just warning you."

Draco looked at her with an unreadable expression. He studied her for a moment. "Why are you telling me this?"

Ginny certainly hadn't expected that. "What?"

"Why are you telling me this? You're a Gryffindor. Better yet, you are—or were—infatuated with Potter. You never would have ever ratted him out. Why the sudden change in attitude?" He looked at her with his head cocked, like she was a puzzle that he couldn't quite figure out.

"I could ask you the same thing," Ginny said coolly. When Draco's eyes turned icy, she stood her ground. "To tell the truth, I'm a bit worried about you."

Draco looked at her, astonished. "_Worried_ about _me?_" For some reason, those words seemed foreign to him. "Why?"

Ginny was now at a sort of loss for words. "Well—like I said earlier, you've not been yourself. You've been detached from your friends, and you hardly speak to my brother, Harry or Hermione—let alone insult them."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And this bothers you?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"And that is because…?"

"Because it makes me think that things aren't going too well for you. You look sick. Pale. Tired."

Again, that flash of fear haunted Draco's eyes for a split second. He didn't say anything, but he turned his gaze to the floor. Ginny noticed again how drawn his face was. Bags hung under his eyes were they had no business being. She felt bad for him.

"What's going on?" she said softly.

"Nothing that concerns you," he said tightly.

Ginny huffed and folded her arms. She noticed that Draco was shivering in his t-shirt and pajamas. "I think that it has to concern _someone, or you'll go mad. You've got your problems bottled up inside, and the cork's going to pop."_

Draco managed a wry smile. "That was lame."

Ginny shrugged. "I thought it was a good analogy." Her face turned serious again. "Look—you're going through something tough. I can tell. And I know that I probably can't sympathize with you, but I'd still like to help."

Draco laughed bitterly. "I think that you could relate better than you think."

Ginny frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked slowly. Draco looked at her for a moment before answering.

"I think you know what's it's like to be controlled against your will."

Ginny's throat tightened, and too quickly, the painful memories of her first year flooded into her mind. She looked at the floor. "So," she said softly. "It's about your father?"

"Something like that."

"Want to talk about it?" she said, a little hopefully.

"Later," came the short reply.

Ginny looked at him closely. Was that a brush-off, or did he really mean it? She saw that he was serious. Draco shifted. "This isn't the right time to talk, really," he mumbled.

Ginny nodded. "Right—right."

They stood there for a little while, not saying anything, both studying each other when they thought the other wasn't looking. Ginny wasn't about to argue that Draco was the most fascinating boy she had ever seen. A strong jaw line, a stern profile, and narrowed eyes. He looked dangerous, and she knew he was. But somehow she didn't feel threatened.

Neither seemed quite sure about what to do then. Draco rubbed his arms uncomfortably to keep them warm.

"So…thanks for the warning," Draco said. "I'll…figure out something to do."

Ginny looked up. "Well—you're a prefect, aren't you? Can't you change the password?"

Draco shook his head, causing a small volume of hair to ripple. "No, it has to be a unanimous decision between all the prefects in the house. They take the password to Dumbledore, so he always knows. That's the only way it works."

"Oh. Can't you warn your house?"

"That's depending on whether or not I can even wake them up. They're dead to the world right now."

Ginny thought. "An anti-hex spell?"

Draco considered that for a second, and then he grinned. Ginny was shocked at the difference it made in his face. He seemed younger, more vigorous. "How about—" Draco said, and Ginny was already poised to say yes, just to keep him smiling—

"An anti-anti hex?"

That snapped her out of it. "A what?"

"An anti-anti hex. In other words, a hex."

"A hex on…" Then she caught the glint in Draco's eyes and it registered. "Ambush?"

Draco nodded energetically. "Yes! But—" He caught the doubtful look on her face—"would you be willing to help?"

Ginny snorted. "You know, they never asked me that when they roped me into their little prank."

"What?"

"Don't look at me like that. I said no. I thought it was going a little too far, doing this. Us finding out the password was completely by accident, like I said. Why else would I be coming here?"

Draco relaxed. "Alright. And if I see that parrot, I'm blasting it."

"Only to maim. That's my semester grade."

"Fine." A beat. "So what do we do?"

Ginny shrugged, and then her face split into the same wide grin Draco was wearing. He looked a little surprised to see it there, obviously fascinated by the way it lit up her whole face and made her eyes sparkle, even in the dark. "Well, if it helps, Ron and Harry were planning to pull a Canary Cream on the lot of you…" She considered. "How about a back-firing spell? They've got their plan all rigged up so that you would all turn into canaries right as you walked into breakfast, and stay like that the whole day. If we turn it around on them…"

Draco looked almost admiring. "Perfect."

Ginny felt flattered, until she slapped her forehead. Draco blinked at her, and she hissed, "_Crap!_ I have to return this…" she gestured to the cloak. "But how am I going to get back?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "It's Potter's?"

Ginny stiffened, and nodded. She searched Draco's eyes questioningly.

"I won't say anything. I have one too."

Ginny smiled in relief. "Thank you." Draco didn't say anything, but just turned his gaze to a point beyond her. His cheeks were a little flushed.

"I'll, ah, be right back with it." He said quietly, and slipped out the door. It seemed like half an hour before he returned, and Ginny kept glancing nervously at her watch. Harry and Ron would probably wake up pretty soon, and find the Invisibility Cloak missing…would they put two and two together?

She was a little startled when Draco slid back in. She hadn't heard him. He moved like a cat.

He unfolded the cloak under his arm and spread it open for her. She looked at him. To tell the truth, and she hated herself for sounding girlish, but she didn't want to go back through those halls again. She was by no means afraid of the dark, but going through those corridors at night was enough to rattle anybody's nerves. The ghostly silence chilled to the bone.

Draco sensed Ginny's hesitancy, and answered by draping both of them. It was plenty big enough to cover the both of them and there was plenty of room, but Ginny still blushed as her elbow brushed Draco's arm.

They went quickly. Ginny made sure that Draco's ears were firmly plugged and his back turned when she whispered the password. He knew where the entrance was, of course, after all, he had done some sleuthing himself in previous years. "There was no sense in letting your brother and Potter have all the fun," he'd explained, and Ginny had shrugged.

Draco waited outside, wearing the cloak, while Ginny slipped in, put back the cloak in its exact place in Harry's trunk, and slipped out. He'd had to pinch the Fat Lady to keep her awake, and her eyes darted around wildly, looking for whoever that had disturbed her sleep.

Ginny came back out and Draco tossed part of the cloak over her head before the Fat Lady could spot her, and they hurried away.

They worked quickly then, setting up their little trap. It was quite a job. Basically, they had to rig it so that any spell fired in the whole common room would immediately backfire and turn around on the person who cast it. Of course, that would have to be lifted right after Ron and Harry left smugly, so that people weren't turning themselves into ferrets or buttons.

And then all that was left to do was wait. Ginny and Draco sat in a corner of the room, the Cloak draped over them both, and waited for the two to arrive. Ginny glanced at her watch again for the hundredth time. Fifteen minutes, approximately. 

Draco noticed her nerves. "Why are you so worried?" he whispered.

"Three reasons. One, I just broke dozens of school rules; two, I'm setting up my brother and his best friend for a fall; and three, there's always a chance that this isn't going to work."

"It'll work."

"Fine. That's just two reasons, then."

Draco grinned. He couldn't help it, he liked the girl's spunk. This wasn't the first time he had noticed it, of course. It had been around his fifth year, her fourth, when she had finally started getting out of her Potter funk. He hadn't noticed her, and she was sick of trying. So she had started hanging around others. Not the giggling twits that seemed to inhabit her particular age group, but older, more advanced students. They accepted her, and now when she laughed, it was genuine.

Ginny had let go of her childish crush, and had matured mentally and physically. Draco could not deny that she had turned into a pretty young woman. Not outstandingly glamorous, which Draco thought was gaudy anyway, but more of a natural beauty. There was something very real about her. And Draco had not experienced many real people.

The two had unconsciously drawn considerably close, and their arms brushed. They both jumped at the contact, but neither moved away. Suddenly, Ginny's attention wasn't on her watch anymore. She had only aimed to glance at him briefly, for no longer than a split second, but found that she couldn't tear her eyes away. The same happened for him, and they were locked.

They drew closer, and it seemed to Ginny that they were still a mile apart when their lips met. She wasn't going to say that it was heavenly, but it was something very close. She closed her eyes, and it was a long moment before they parted. They were about to close the gap again when they both heard a scuffling, and the passage for the Slytherin common room shifted open. Ginny couldn't see anyone, but she didn't doubt that Harry and Ron were under the cloak. There was some shuffling, and Ron muttered thickly, "How did George say it went…oh, right. _Canarius Fanus!_" 

"Did it work?" Harry whispered.

"Yeah, I think so. Remember, it's set to go off around breakfast." Ginny and Draco both had to smother their laughs.

"Right." A pause. "Remind me to borrow Colin's camera."

After they had left, Draco turned to Ginny. "You can borrow mine," he said. Ginny grinned, and kissed him again.

The next morning, a shriek came from the Gryffindor table. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had burst out in full canary bloom, one right after the other. Yellow feathers flew everywhere, and Ginny plucked one out of her pumpkin juice with disgust. She then discreetly brought up her camera and clicked.

"Nice one," she whispered.

"Awwwk! Hey, baby, I'm baaaack! Awk!"

::grin:: Heh.


End file.
